Alright
by dinosaysRAWRrawr
Summary: A fic I wrote upon request. More teeth rotting Zombie/Hanna fluff.  : Zombie returns from a late night walk to find Hanna making yet another crane for him. Shameless gayety ensues. K  for swearing.


Alright, I wrote this for BlueEnigma on dA upon her request. (: I was told to make it adorable and ridiculously sappy like my previous story, Touch. This is also dedicated to the awesome lady known as Bianca who lives over in Germany land, who also wanted to see some more Zombie/Hanna tooth rotting level fluff, so here it is:

nnnnnnnn

He had spent more than forty-five minutes out walking that night, under the protective shield of darkness. Though the darkness did a good job of hiding his skin tone and exposed stitches from a distance, nothing could quite eliminate the glow of his eyes. Though he tended to walk through back alleys and parks, places rarely anything other than empty in the hours of very early morning, he tended to keep his eyes to the ground for the most part. Sure, he went out in public often with Hanna by his side (who often came up with a variety of excuses for why he looks the way he does), but it was oddly comforting to avoid any unnecessary attention, and feel as though he was nothing but human.

He was only a block away from Hanna's apartment when it began to snow lightly. Though he disliked water a fair amount, he could not deny the beauty that snow possessed, and his skin felt protected beneath his layers of clothing and fedora. A few flakes idly fell onto his face, but he was okay with that. All he could really think was to be sure to tell Hanna of the weather when he wakes up, and be sure to lend him his scarf and make sure he was bundled up in a coat. The last thing he wanted was for the redhead to catch cold yet again, due to his carelessness when it came to weather conditions and temperature.

Climbing each step with soft, muted taps of his shoes, he finally made it back to the apartment, producing the key to make his way inside. Upon entering, he closed the door ever so carefully and kicked off his shoes, taking his coat and hat off in a slow manner, doing his best to be absolutely quiet. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Hanna after he had finally convinced him to sleep earlier in the night.

However, upon reentering Hanna's room (intending simply to resume his place at the usual spot at the foot of his bed and return to his book.) he found the redhead up in bed, bent over and facing the window for a source of light from the nearly full moon.

"Hanna?" A worried expression befell the zombie's features as he ventured deeper into the small and dilapidated space, his expression slowly altering to one of an expectant and stern look, almost motherly in the way it practically shouted, _what are you doing up at this time of night?_

However, when Hanna turned and offered him a warm smile, he couldn't quite argue, and simply sat down once more, eyes still portraying that he expected an answer from him.

"Sorry… I sorta woke up, and when I realized you weren't here, I couldn't really get back to bed. Just wanted to wait for you." Hanna explained with a sheepish grin, looking as though he was caught doing something wrong. However, the expression quickly melted away into another easy smile before his blue eyes trailed back down to the sheet of paper in his hands. Leaving the explanation at that, he nibbled on his lip as his hands moved quickly in a familiar pattern, soon producing a small crane.

The zombie looked upon him with attentive eyes, knowing exactly what the crane was for, and couldn't quite suppress the small quirk in his lips, a precursor to an actual smile, though, for the undead man, it was just as good. Shifting where he sat, he leaned forward to accept the small crane into his hand, marveling at its perfected structure, its small and frail head topping its slender and folded neck, all the way to the perfectly proportioned wings and tail.

"Number twenty." The redhead interrupted his thoughts with a small, enthusiastic laugh, watching as the zombie moved to the dresser, setting it next to the others with care, a delicate touch. "Twenty." He echoed.

"Though, you know James, at this rate you're gonna have to be around for a loooong while before we reach the big one-thousand." He tilted his head slightly, his expression a mixture of apology and glee. Hanna always found a way to mix so many emotions into simple adjustments of his face, the zombie found. Though he guessed that Hanna had more expressions than anyone he had ever met, alive or "dead".

"How long have you been awake?" the zombie suddenly asked as he crossed the room once more, but this time found himself comfortably seated near Hanna upon his bed, gently glowing eyes locked on his.

"Uhm… Not that long, really. Like, ten minutes or something?" he pondered aloud, eyes rolling up to the ceiling momentarily as he thought. Though, when he came back down to Earth so to speak, he couldn't quite keep eye contact with the other male. Instead, he chewed at the inside of his cheek, and lamely tried to busy himself with his covers, acting as though there was some very important lint upon one edge of a blanket that absolutely _needed_ to be removed.

"Oh."

And then there was silence. Awkward, horrible silence that the redhead was practically _dying_ to fill. He wasn't really good at the whole, being-close-to-the-impossibly-handsome-zombie thing, and he couldn't really wrap his mind around their current state of affairs.

It kinda seemed like they were together, in Hanna's mind. But not so necessarily _together_, together, he guessed. It wasn't like they were shouting their love for one another from the rooftops, or skipping in public with their hands held or anything cliché like that. It was more… subtle. Sure, they'd let their fingers touch, and maybe Hanna was growing to be unnecessarily clingly, taking just about every opportunity available and more to maybe stand just a _little_ too close, or _accidentally_ brush their hands together. But regardless of any physical contact they made, the zombie never seemed to initiate it, but also didn't seem to mind.

It wasn't like he was pushing Hanna away and slapping a restraining order on his face or something. But it seemed infinitely more terrifying than that. There was that one time when he made the zombie sit beside him on the couch while they watched some awful old horror film for the laughs, and _maybe_ insisted they share a blanket by placing it over both of their laps. Though all _move making_ ceased when the redhead oh so lamely passed out from the exhaustion of the day right where he sat, mid movie. However, he could vaguely remember awaking some unknown time after he had drifted off, with his head upon the other male's shoulder, feeling the comforting and heavy weight of an arm around him.

But if Hanna wasn't so caught up in reliving every single heart-pumping moment he'd spent close to the other, he would have noticed that the zombie was looking at him with a dry yet intensely fond expression, eyes soft and _sososo_ warm.

"Hanna. About what you said."

"Wh-Yeah?" the redhead finally drew his attention back to his little reality, making the mistake of looking into his eyes again. It made him feel like… goo. Yeah, a goo of some kind. But not an icky sticky goo, but rather the nice and warm kind. It made his head feel fuzzy, and he always knew that when that started, he would be lost for a good amount of time, unable to pull his attention away from the other man, leaving him like some lovesick lost puppy, doing his best to _learn_ from his past "relationship" failures and _not_ come on strong.

"It's okay."

"…Wait, what's okay? I kinda say a lot and I guess I wasn't really following what you were talking about, heeh." He grinned, though his brows sort of curved. It was one of the zombie's favourite expressions. It's the kind of apologetic and guilty face that would make him let go of whatever reckless thing Hanna had done to upset him out of worry for the frail looking man, and simply give in and forgive. He shook his head to assure Hanna that it was okay before clarifying himself,

"It's okay if it takes a long time to make the cranes for me."

"… Why?" Okay, so Hanna supposed that was a pretty dumb response, but, hey, he was full of those it seemed when he was around Mr. Sexy Undead.

"Because, that just means I get to bug you for longer."

"Shit, the world's ending. You're gaining a sense of humour." The redhead teased, though it was really out of defense because _dear sweet Jesus_ he was pretty sure his heart just skipped a beat and _God help him_ he _knew_ he was blushing and he was pretty sure he could die if the other noticed.

He only scrunched his nose slightly in response to Hanna before extending a hand to ruffle his hair, a small smile tugging at one corner of his lips. "So it is. But, staying with you, Hanna, is the only wish I can think of."

Hanna only stared at him, dumbfounded. Lips parted, eyes wide, face and ears red as can be, brain shot to hell, lungs aching, heart pounding, limbs gooey, chest tingly. Hanna's status? Complete system failure.

"Hanna?"

"Yeahnnnmmm?" he tried to respond, immediately taking a moment to gain coherency, simply so he could completely degrade himself mentally for being such a _damned idiot_ when it came to people he undeniably had the hots for. But _God dammit_, he deserved some credit. He just sat there while the guy he'd been crushing on for a while now told him he wanted to _stay by his side_ and how the hell was he supposed to take that without blinking an eye? Or in his case, becoming an incoherent, fumbling idiot.

"Sleep now."

Hanna nodded dumbly and lowered himself to lie upon the sheets once more, trying to suppress a small pout. He figured that maybe, _maybe_ his behavior sometimes reflected the child people assumed he was. But really, he swore on everything, he was _twenty-four_ and no one could tell him otherwise. But he really didn't want to sleep. His head was too muzzy, and he didn't think he'd chill out anytime soon.

"Alright… Goodnight Louis." He said softly, looking at the other with slight defeat, having never been good at hiding his emotions, but crap, when he was smiling down at him like that, he really had a hard time closing his eyes.

"Goodnight. And…" he leaned forward slightly, tall torso bending over him, "May I?"

The redhead raised a brow, but figured he just had something on his face. He was a _little_ careless (really, only a little), and it wouldn't be the first time there was something that needed to be wiped away that the zombie tended to. Really, with that thought, his spirits plummeted. What if he saw him as nothing more than a child that needed to be watched after?

"Alright." The redhead responded halfheartedly through a small yawn, eyes still on his.

And so the zombie leaned and leaned and leaned and somewhere in that time, Hanna's sluggish and distracted mind caught on to the fact that it was not the zombie's hand that was growing closer, but rather his face.

Before he could really understand absolutely anything at all, Hanna could feel his glasses removed and hear them be set aside, before a pair of thin and cool lips met the corner of his own mouth. He gasped and turned, eyes wide and infinitely hopeful before his instinct took over and his natural need to come on _way_ too strong took the reins, and he was tilting his chin and lifting his head, lips brushing lips so softly, so lightly it was barely there. But then it was, it was fully there, and those cool lips were on his own, so much harder than before but still so soft, and he couldn't breathe, and his voice was caught, and his heart was pounding so hard he couldn't hear anything else. His eyes slid shut, and it was so simple, so dull, so plain, the kiss, but so _fucking magnificent_ he supposed he couldn't even think straight. Kisses weren't what he expected. It wasn't like in the movies, but it was absolutely perfect and fantastic all on its own. It was in another level of thinking, in a whole new realm of reality, so fucking tender and fulfilling and he felt so _warm_, so _good_, he didn't know if he could last the rest of his life without kissing that man again.

But it was over in only a matter of seconds, and he remained with his head on the pillow, eyes half lidded in wonderment and _joy_ as the zombie pulled back with that same warm expression he had worn before, and maybe it was okay. Maybe it was alright. Yes, alright. A word he had used to submit to things he usually didn't want to do, and the word he had used to give his undead companion the go ahead to kiss him. Had he known before, he would have used a different word, he was sure, but suddenly _alright_ was an amazing word. An amazing and wonderful word.

"Now sleep."

"Well how the hell am I supposed to do that now?" the redhead grumped openly, though couldn't hide his smile.

"Hanna." The zombie replied in an amused tone with another shake of his head. He pet at his hair, and smoothed a gloved palm over his cheek. "You need your rest."

"…Okay, okay. Hey, are we like, you know?" Damn, when had he gone and gotten so _brave_?

"… If you'd like to be."

"Well _duh_, bro!"

"Okay then, Hanna. Will you?"

"Alright."

An embrace, smiles, unspoken but said, tentative and new, a little frightening and overwhelming, leaving him shaken and the zombie equally enthused, in a silent and calmer sort of way, but things were brilliant, things were kind, things were bright, and things were whole, it seemed.

It was perfect. Everything both hadn't fully realized they had wanted until then. 


End file.
